AllFreeNovel
Share Us
There is a short silence, then he continues, “You’re in Chicago. Where are you from?”
“Atlanta.”
“Do you have family in Atlanta?”
“Yes.” I nod. “My mom and dad live there.”
“Okay. I’m going to bring you something to eat, and then you can call your parents. Sound good?”
I look up and find him watching me with narrowed eyes.
“Yes, please,” I say.
He turns to leave. Just as I thought, his back is also covered in tattoos. He didn’t give me his name. It shouldn’t matter because I will be gone shortly anyway, but I want to know. “What’s your name?”
“Sergei. Sergei Belov.” He throws the words over his shoulder and is gone in the next moment.
I stare at the door he closed while panic starts building in my stomach. Shiiiit. Of all the people that could have found me...
The Russians were already doing business with Mendoza and Rivera—the heads of the other two cartels—when they approached my father last year with an offer to collaborate. The Bratva wanted an in with the Sandoval cartel as well. My father turned them down, and then partnered with the Irish, who are the Russians’ main competitors.
I remember that day very well. I had just returned from the US and was waiting for my father to come back from the meeting with the Russians. He barged into the house, yelling and cursing. I had never seen my father yell so much. When I asked what happened, he said that it was no wonder the Russians get along well with Mendoza because they were all deranged. He didn’t elaborate, but later that day, I heard the guards talking about how the Russian who came to a meeting was batshit crazy. The guy sent all four of my father’s bodyguards to the hospital when they tried to disarm him before letting him speak with my father.
That Russian was Sergei Belov.
I have to get out of here as soon as possible.
I take the pot of soup Felix prepared, pour a healthy amount into a bowl, and head toward the fridge, dialing Roman along the way.
“The girl woke up.” I reach for the bottle of juice. Doc said she needs to take in some sugar.
“What did she say?”
“Her name is Angelina. Didn’t offer last name. She was traveling when Diego’s men bagged her and put her on that truck. Says she’s from Atlanta and has family there.”
“Sounds like something Rivera would do.”
“Yeah.” I nod and reach for the glass. “Except it’s all bullshit.”
“You think she’s lying?”
“About everything except her name.”
“Why would she lie?”
“Because her name is Angelina Sofia Sandoval,” I say. “She’s Manny Sandoval’s daughter, Roman.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Nope. I have her photo in my folder on Manny from last year. I didn’t recognize her right away. Her hair is shorter now, and the photo was old, but it’s her.”
A stream of curses comes from the other end of the line. “What the fuck was she doing hidden in the Italians’ shipment? Did she know the truck was going to be delivered to the Albanians?”
“No clue.” I shrug, take the platter with the soup and the juice, and head toward the stairs.
“Let her stay there for now, and don’t let her out of your sight until we find out what’s going on. I need to focus on the Italians now. Mikhail should be here any moment. We’ll handle the cartel princess issue after the situation with Bruno Scardoni blows over.”
“Okay.” I head upstairs. “But you should know one thing. I’m keeping her, Roman.”
